Originally posted at the Drrr Kinkmeme on Livejournal.
The following story contains M/M - please don't read if that's not your thing. If it is, enjoy! ;)
Wherever You Will Go
Chapter Five
Izaya woke squinting against bright sunshine.
He was still in Shizu-chan's bed, with its dark blue sheets. It still smelled like him. Izaya stretched, burying his face into the pillow and breathing deep. He didn't want to move yet, except to shift his hips, feeling the deep ache there as a reminder. The only way the morning could have been improved would be if Shizuo was still in bed with him, but considering he half expected not to wake up at all, this was a bonus.
He sat up, arms stretching above his head, working out the kinks and aches in his back. The broken chains of the handcuffs jingled, and…
…Hmm.
It was still Shizu-chan's bed, but this wasn't Shizu-chan's bedroom. It didn't even look like Shizu-chan's apartment. The bed took up most of the space, barely enough room either side to stand. Sunshine gleamed brightly off uneven whitewashed walls, the only window was a skylight high in the beamed ceiling. The sky through the glass looked awfully blue.
In the empty space Shizuo must have occupied, the sunlight caught on a silver disk on a black cord. Jewellery? It didn't seem Shizuo's style.
Interesting.
So this is where you were going to go, Shizu-chan.
In the narrow gap between the bed and the wall, he could see the fur of his jacket peeking. It took a few tugs to free it, but fortunately it revealed the rest of his clothes and his bag squashed up against the wall. If he was here alone with Shizu-chan, he had no qualms about walking out just as he was just to see the look on the other man's face. However, since he had no idea where he was, clothed seemed more practical.
Besides, the way his clothes rubbed across bruises and grazes made his senses sing.
The door was already off its hinges, just splinters of wood where it should have been, and Izaya smiled.
Well, at least he knew where Shizu-chan went.
Between waking up in a room that wasn't his, and waking up next to the flea, Shizuo couldn't tell which one was more unsettling. Worse, the way Izaya had made himself quite at home, sprawled at an almost diagonal angle that took up most of the bed.
Goddamn flea, he couldn't even sleep like normal people…
Squinting at the sunshine through his sunglasses, Shizuo blew a stream of smoke against the clear blue sky, and tried to stop thinking about Izaya – Izaya in his bed - long enough to appreciate the view in front of him.
There was a lot of green. A lot of sky. Ikebukuro it sure as fuck wasn't. Even his cigarettes tasted different. It was all so damn idyllic he could throw up.
Celty had been right about everything that belonged to him coming along for the ride. That might've worked out better if there'd been room in the cottage for even his sparse belongings. He'd cursed a blue streak just trying to get out of the door, because his couch and coffee table just turned into an obstacle course.
The shopping bags were still on the couch, too. He'd picked out a pair of jeans and a blue shirt, not particularly caring what they were as long as he didn't have to go out the door naked.
He needn't have worried. He'd already paced his way along the perimeter of the cottage, following the low stone wall that surrounded it, and the only living things he'd seen were a few birds. Not the sort of things that'd peck through restaurant litter in Ikebukuro's alleyways. Small things, little brown ones that greeted him with an alarmingly loud song. Tenacious, bold little things. He had no clue what they were, but he liked them already.
There was a path leading away from the cottage, curving down the slight gradient of a slope. He'd followed it as far as a narrow road, almost hidden from view by tall battalions of hedgerows on either side, before turning back, uneasy about leaving Izaya alone. No road signs, no cars. Hopefully his groceries made the journey, because he had no idea where to go to get more. If everything he owned came with, then there'd be a few days worth, at best.
Everything he owned. And the flea. Shizuo didn't even know what to think about that.
On perverse cue, the door opened behind him.
Just the awareness of Izaya's presence, the bug-under-a-microscope scrutiny of those red eyes, made him shiver. He'd always had an annoying sixth sense about that gaze, could tell it was watching him even when its owner was nowhere in sight. Even here, when there was so much else Izaya could be watching, he was just watching Shizuo, wordless and undemanding.
Pisses me off…
When he finally relented, turning around with a snarl of "What?" Izaya was, indeed staring at him, but with a surprised look Shizuo couldn't help think was just a little misplaced.
"What are you wearing?"
"I do have other clothes, you know." Most of them, as of yesterday. But Izaya didn't need to know that. The flea was in his usual garb of black on black topped off with that fur trimmed coat. He hadn't given much thought to Izaya's things coming too – last he'd checked, Izaya came with leather and sex toys. All too literally, shit… – but he couldn't help feeling relieved. He wouldn't have known what to do with a buck naked flea besides lock him in the house.
Or bend him over the bed again and fuck him till neither of you can move.
No. Not that.
"Hmm. They suit you."
Shizuo made a noncommittal sound. That was the good thing about the bartender uniform; he didn't need to give a shit whether it suited him. It was a uniform, an identity. It covered up a whole lot of things Shizuo was clueless about.
Hands in the pockets of his coat, making it swing around narrow hips with every light step, Izaya sauntered closer. He didn't seem to be moving with much difficulty, even if his steps were measured. But that might have had more to do with who he was approaching, rather than any pain the act caused. "Where are we?"
"Dunno."
[It'll take you home.]
Shizuo had nowhere in particular in mind last night; there wasn't even a spa town or hot springs where he'd been on vacation once that came to mind as an ideal destination. So he figured the magic had just taken him wherever it came from. And if it was Celty's, then…
"Ireland, maybe, I don't know."
"Ireland." Izaya repeated, in the same tone he might've used if Shizuo just said 'the moon'. Given the circumstances, Shizuo couldn't really blame him. For plenty of other shit, yeah, for this, not so much. "Hmm. I didn't think Shizu-chan fucked me that hard."
Shizuo grimaced. He didn't particularly need another reminder that they'd fucked at all, not when his body had been on a strange edge ever since Izaya came out of the door. "Shut up."
"So how did we get here?" Izaya mused. Something glittered in the sun, and Shizuo watched the flea dangle the silver disk from one slender finger, letting it twist like a mobile. "I wonder. Ah, don't worry Shizu-chan; I've seen stranger things than this."
No doubt, even if Shizuo had no inclination to find out what they were. This was Izaya, for fucks' sakes. Strange attracted strange.
Still, he snatched the pendant back, shoving it into his pocket. Hell knew where the flea would try to go if he was left to his own devices with something like that…
"You seem remarkably calm, Shizu-chan."
"Why not? I don't care where I am, as long as there's no one else here to hurt."
"Well," Izaya smiled ruefully, "in that case I'm glad I can be of some use to you." Shizuo didn't bother correcting him; let the flea think whatever he wanted. If he wanted to imagine shit that made him look that fucking sad, then it was his own damn choice. "Although…" The familiar smirk was back in place, as though any hint of vulnerability was nothing more than a figment. "I am good for other things too, right?"
Shizuo blamed the fact he'd been thinking about Izaya's mouth for the memory of the same lips wrapped tight around him, that clever tongue never stopping, never slowing, just lapping and sucking as though he was the most delicious thing in the world.
He inhaled sharply in an attempt to distract himself, but the smoke went down the wrong way and he found himself cough himself to tears on a cigarette for the first time since he'd started the habit. Izaya looked at him curiously, before turning his attention back to the empty pastoral landscape.
"There must be a town or something nearby, right? I mean, you have electricity and running water, you can't be that cut off from civilization."
"Wouldn't care if we were."
"But that's hardly practical, Shizu-chan. Unless you plan on rearing chickens or something."
"You know, you can always leave. Bet it won't take you long to find some poor idiot who'll take you to the nearest airport." Wherever it was. There weren't even any telltale contrails in the cloudless sky.
Izaya sighed the long suffering sigh of those perpetually dealing with idiots. "Haven't we done this twice, now? I don't want to leave. Some warning might've been nice, I could have packed better clothes, cancelled my newspapers… I'm joking, Shizu-chan."
"Yeah, whatever."
"It's true. I'm happy as long as I'm with Shizu-cha-!"
The last syllable was just a choked puff of air from the flea's lips as Shizuo shoved him back against the side of the house, one hand around a slender, pale throat. Mostly pale; thanks to the wide collar of Izaya's shirt and that coat hanging half off his shoulders, there was no disguising the bruises, the marks, the red crescent of a bite.
"Stop. I've had enough, just stop."
Please.
He felt Izaya swallow, throat moving against his palm. A pulse raced against his fingers. His, Izaya's, he couldn't tell. Somehow he doubted anything could make the flea's heart race like that.
"But that's why I'm here, right?" Izaya watched him with heavy-lidded eyes that had darkened to black cherries, a lazy catlike smile curving his lips. As though Shizuo couldn't have snapped his neck like a twig at any given second, he reached out, hands settling on Shizuo's hips, fingers hooking in his belt loops. "So I can be useful."
An innocent word like 'useful' should never have sounded so fucking… wrong.
Izaya tugged him a little closer, and as off-kilter as he was Shizuo went with it. Looking ridiculously pleased with himself, Izaya let go only to slide his hands along the low-slung waist of Shizuo's jeans.
He should have moved. Stopped it. He could have taken a step back, out of reach. He could have tightened his fingers around Izaya's neck. There were a hundred things he could have done – should have done - rather than just watch Izaya's eyes while the other man unfastened his jeans, long cool fingers sliding under the heavy fabric.
His cock reacted as though it had already become addicted to Izaya's touch. Just the brush of fingertips made him stiffen, made his breath catch.
"It feels good, doesn't it?" Izaya's voice was little more than a whisper. His hand worked its way deeper, palm rubbing the underside of Shizuo's cock, fingers wrapping like brands of fire around his shaft. He stroked, once, hard, and made a soft, pleased sound at the way Shizuo's hips rocked into the movement of their own accord. "You don't have to hold back, Shizu-chan. You can just close your eyes and enjoy it. Didn't I tell you I'd be anything you wanted?"
He watched the rise and fall of Izaya's chest, his own breathing unconsciously falling in sync. This close, Izaya still smelt of sex, leather and heat. Shizuo caught himself before he leaned, pressed his face into the curve of Izaya's shoulder and just breathed him in.
It wouldn't be so bad, a little voice cajoled. Who wouldn't want sex on tap? And he is good at it, you can't deny that. If he just shut up, if you could just pretend it's not him making you—
Fuck…
"Wait—ow!" Izaya hissed a breath as Shizuo grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away.
"I said I've had enough."
Cradling his wrist to his chest, Izaya glared at him, and something in Shizuo relaxed infinitesimally. Better. He could deal with that look. He could breathewith that look.
"Go," he had to swallow past the dryness of his throat, turning away from Izaya and zipping his jeans back up. Easier said than done when the flea'd left him half hard, and sensitive even to his own rough touch. "Go and clean up. There's a bathroom. No shower, but everything works."
"But you're—"
"I want to figure out where we are. You're not coming with me smelling like some cheap-ass whore. Go and clean up."
He wasn't good with insults he had to think about. Usually they were part and parcel of the rage, and the only recollection he had of whatever he'd said came back to him in fragments, like a bad hangover. But if it made Izaya keep his distance, even his half-assed attempts would be enough.
It wasn't just Izaya he couldn't recognize last night. He didn't want any more reason to be that man.
Izaya stopped at the door. "Why did you bring me?"
Shizuo had no answer. Too many answers. None of them make the first fucking bit of sense, so he dredged up the one that sounded least hollow.
"Seemed safer than leaving you behind."
"Ah." Izaya nodded. "I understand."
Shizuo waited till the door shut, before leaning his head back against the cold stone wall and closing his eyes.
Good thing one of us does.
When he'd finished washing off himself, and checking the inventory for the things they were going to run out of first, Izaya was back in the garden. He leaned against the stone wall, face upturned towards the sun, a contented smile on his face, and Shizuo found himself thinking he'd just intruded on something he shouldn't.
He cleared his throat, as though Izaya had no idea he was there. Stupid. The little shit knew everything he did. There had been days when Shizuo was that close to going to Shinra and asking whether there was some sort of tracking device in his ass.
"You, uh… look like you're getting used to it. Here, I mean."
"Mmm. I suppose you could have picked worse." Izaya pushed away from the wall, half-spinning before crouching next to a sprawling tangle of white flowers around the base of a tree. "It's pretty here, at least. Sometimes a break from the city is good. Healthy. And it's always good to try new things, ne? Do you know what these are?"
Even if he'd been trying to follow Izaya's ramblings, Shizuo would've been lost somewhere around "I". Shrugging he took a deep drag on a new cigarette, and grunted, "Flowers."
Izaya looked up at him, almost pouting. "How do you even survive being this uncultured?"
"What the fuck, flowers aren't culture. They're…" he waved a hand in their direction. "Flowers."
"They're anemones." Izaya turned back to the flowers, that odd half-smile, half-frown expression on his face. "Supposedly they mean 'forsaken'. But Shizu-chan hasn't forsaken me, right? Because here we are. So maybe this time they stand for 'anticipation'."
Yeah, that sounded about right. Shizuo was certainly anticipating disaster. He glanced at Izaya over the top of his sunglasses, as the other man's attention was drawn to a smaller patch of small yellow flowers. Tch. What anticipating disaster; there it was, dressed in a trashy furred parka and cooing at flowers.
But what harm could Izaya do here? What harm could either of them do? Oh, he wouldn't count it out entirely, but shit… the odds were reduced to negligible. Hard to kill the flea with street signs when he couldn't even see a street.
Izaya picked one of the yellow flowers, twirling it between thumb and index finger as he strolled closer. "This is a primrose." He held it out for Shizuo's inspection… or maybe as an offering, he couldn't tell. Either way, he kept his free hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other fixed fast to the cigarette. He didn't want anything Izaya had to offer.
"What does that one mean?"
"Ah…" Izaya lowered his hand, but not before lowering his gaze. "You know. I'm not sure. Heh, you caught me out Shizu-chan, maybe I'm not that cultured either, ne?"
"Whatever." Shizuo stubbed out the cigarette on the gravelly path, and stalked towards the road. "Let's go. I don't know how far we're gonna have to walk."
Izaya nodded, but before he followed he dug something out of his pocket, messed around with it for a moment.
"Oi. Let's go. Or you can stay behind, I don't care."
"No, I'm coming. I was just checking whether my cell phone worked, but it's not picking up a signal. I'll have to pick up a new one."
"What for?"
Izaya shoved whatever he held back into his pocket, and smiled. "Emergencies."
"Don't piss me off, and there won't be any."
They must have walked a good three or four miles before the rumbling of a vehicle sounded along the road. Shizuo had all but given up on running into anyone, the idea of really being isolated in the middle of nowhere growing more and more appealing. The sight of the small bus was kind of disappointing.
Izaya on the other hand, saw fit to step into the middle of the road and wave the bus down.
"Shit, you think he wasn't gonna see you?" Shizuo stalked towards the bus, trying to keep a rein on his temper. It wasn't even Izaya, not really, just the annoying realization that he wasn't as alone as he'd hoped. Maybe he couldn't be, not really, not if he feasibly wanted to live.
Or he could follow Izaya's advice and get chickens. How hard could it be?
"So we're just going to get on?"
"Yeah."
"And how are we going to pay? Where ever we are, I doubt they lay on free public transport."
"…"
Shit. But it was all Izaya's fault; given the extra couple of days Shizuo'd intended to take before leaving, surely all this would've occurred to him. Or Celty would've told him, same thing.
"So you don't know where you are, you have no money…" Izaya shook his head and sighed again. "Well, it's a good thing you have me then, isn't it?"
I don't have you. I don't want you.
Izaya tapped on the door of the bus, stepping back as it whooshed open.
"Oi, flea, what are you doing?"
Izaya looked back at him, and Shizuo could have sworn the other man's brow twitched, just a little. Through a gritted-teeth smile, Izaya sounded frighteningly cheery. "Do you even speak passable English, Shizu-chan?"
"I…" …Fuck it.
"There you are, then." Izaya turned back to the driver, beamed, and began speaking in a language and accent Shizuo had only heard before on subtitled TV shows. "I'm sorry about my friend. He's just jet-lagged. Really badly jet-lagged, which makes him grumpy. So if you'd be so kind as to take us to the nearest town that'd be great."
"It's about seven miles," the driver shrugged. "It'll be five Euros for both of you."
"Ah, you see we have a slight cashflow problem." Izaya dug his wallet from his coat pocket, opened it, and flashed a dazzling array of internationally acceptable credit cards. Shizuo wondered if any of them were even legal, whether any of them were in his real name.
And he thought he saw the flash of something small and yellow, tucked into one of the folds of the wallet, but Izaya had closed it again before he could tell for sure.
"If you can take me to an ATM I'll pay you double. And hey, I'll even leave my friend here on the bus as collateral so you know I won't just run off."
"What did you just say about me?" The words might've gone over his head, but Izaya pointing in his direction was never a good thing as far as Shizuo was concerned.
"Ah, don't see why not." The bus driver nodded. "Hop on."
"Thank you, sir!"
Making his way to the back seat, Izaya bounded onto it like a kid, peering out of the back window. Shizuo followed, bracing himself on the back of the seats when the bus lurched into life again.
"Bus fare, who cares." Izaya smiled up at him, and fucking giggled. "Rendering Shizu-chan speechless at the fact the rest of the world is far advanced than his protozoan brain, priceless."
"Fuck you, flea."
"That's the idea," Izaya agreed mildly, turning to gaze out of the window. "But Shizu-chan doesn't want to."
Shizuo let his forehead smack into the seat in front of him. It was going to be a long fucking six miles.